A Voice from the Past
by cpratt2012
Summary: Takes place during Season 15, Episode 10, in the span of time between meeting the Blues and Reds and arriving at Temple's base. A ghost from the past visits Washington in a dream, and offers some advice about his potentially budding relationship with Carolina.


The steady "hum" of the Pelican's engine created an almost calming atmosphere. Almost. It would have been a lot more calming if not for the occupants inside the cabin. Caboose was complaining about Tucker not keeping his hands on his side of the seat, Sarge and Surge were exchanging nuggets of "military wisdom," and the two robots were muttering incoherently to each other. About what, Wash couldn't tell - but he was able to make out a single word: "Idiota."

Behind his visor, Agent Washington's eyelids were starting to get heavy. "How many days has it been since I got a decent night's sleep?" he wondered. "Should I even be counting in days?" It felt more like months. Years, even.

Such was the price of dealing with a team of idiots on a daily basis. And now, it seemed, he would have to contend with twice the number. "I should at least _try_ to get some shuteye on this flight," he thought to himself. "God knows the next time I'll get the chance…"

He glanced over at Carolina, who was sitting across from him, and saw that she was flicking a lighter. York's lighter. The flame reflected in the narrow slit of her visor - shaped like a perpetually furrowed brow. No doubt she was reflecting on what he had told her earlier, on the beach:

" _You don't have to destroy the past, to have a future…"_

" _You expect me to believe that, David?"_

She had called him "David." Nobody had called him by that name in years, and the last person to do so had been The Director. It irritated the hell out of him then, but this time, somehow, it didn't bother him.

With that thought lingering in his head, he began to feel himself nodding off. The cacophony of idiots in stereo started to fade into white noise. And then, suddenly, it stopped. Dead silence.

Wash opened his eyes. The once occupied seats now appeared to be empty. Had he overslept? Had they landed? If so, why hadn't anyone woken him?

It was at this moment that a voice suddenly rang out from the shadows. "Hey, Wash. How you holding up?"

Wash jumped. He knew that voice, even though it was one he hadn't heard in a long time. He looked to the right, towards the cockpit, to see a tan figure leaning against the door.

"York?"

The figure nodded as it stepped into the light. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

"What are you doing here?" Wash asked, his voice nearly cracking with surprise. "I haven't seen you since…"

"Since you blew up my body?"

"Well, yeah. Sorry about that, by the way…"

York waved his hand, dismissively. "Don't sweat it, dude." With that, he walked across the aisle and placed himself in the vacant seat next to Wash.

"So, you're not mad?"

"Oh no, I'm mad as hell," York interjected. "But you did save D, so I guess I won't haunt you..."

Wash fell silent for a moment. He didn't particularly feel like talking about Delta, or any of the AI, for that matter. "So, why are you here, then?"

York shrugged. "Just checking in on you, man," he said, sincerely. "I hear you saved a planet? That's pretty sweet."

Wash nodded. Another bittersweet topic for him. "Chorus, yeah. But I can't take all the credit. Carolina... she helped."

Now it was York's turn to fall silent. "And how is she?" All of the swagger seemed to suddenly drop out of his voice at the mention of her name.

"She's fine, I think." Wash replied, perhaps a little too quickly. He didn't particularly feel like discussing Carolina with her (very dead) boyfriend. Especially not after the conversation they had just finished mere hours ago.

Unfortunately for Wash, York picked up on his discomfort. "You two aren't… together, now, are you?"

Wash suddenly snapped to attention. "Hmm? What? No! I mean, maybe. Err, I dunno…"

York couldn't help but chuckle at Wash's sudden nervousness. "Relax, dude, I was just messing with you. But seriously, are you?"

Wash didn't answer.

"It's okay to say 'yes,' y'know," said York. "Just know that I'll probably haunt you if you do."

"We're not together," Wash deflected.

"Alright, if you say so... " York replied. "I was only joking about the haunting thing, by the way."

Silence once again from Wash.

York paused for a bit, as if trying to read the thoughts that were swimming around under Wash's helmet.

"Look, I'm sorry, man, I know I probably shouldn't joke about stuff like that…" he sighed. "God knows you've got enough ghosts already."

Wash groaned, heavily. "You don't know the half of it."

"But you do at least have feelings for her, right?"

Again, no reply from Wash.

"Come on, don't try to deny it. It's written all over your visor."

Wash sat up, and for the first time since York seated himself next to him, looked him directly in the eye. "I care about her, sure. We look after each other. I'd be lying if I said she didn't mean a lot to me."

"But do you love her?"

Wash shrugged. "I don't know if I'd call it love, but…"

"'But' what?" York asked.

"But, lately I've started to think I don't know what I'd do without her."

York nodded, understandingly. "Well, if that's the way you feel, you should tell her."

"I don't really know how." said Wash.

"Just tell her," said York. "You two have been through hell together, I'm sure she'll understand."

Wash went quiet again. He thought back to earlier that day, holding hands on the beach. Deep down, he knew that York was probably right. 'Yeah, but what if I piss her off? I don't want to make things weird between us."

York laughed. "Well, yeah, I mean, you have to consider the fact that she can and will crush you like a bug…" his voice trailed off for a moment, and he was suddenly serious again.

"...But I'll let you in on a little secret, pal: if you don't tell her now, there's no telling when the next chance will come. Hell, it may _never_ come. Take it from me."

Wash took a moment to let that thought sink in. He was right, goddamnit. "Alright, York," he said. "Alright, I'll tell her."

York patted Wash on the back. "That's the spirit," he said. "It'll mean a lot to her, coming from you. Trust me on this."

With that, he got up and began walking back towards the cockpit.

"Oh, and by the way, before I go: what's this I hear about you growing a beard?"

"Wash. Hey, Wash. Wake up."

Washington's eyes fluttered open to the sight of a cyan-clad hand shaking him awake.

"Wha? Carolina, is that you?"

"What? No, it's not Carolina, it's Tucker! Wake the fuck up, dude! We're here."

Wash still had no idea where "here" was.

A mechanical whirring sounded as the Pelican's gangplank deployed, allowing the desert light to filter into the cabin.

One by one, the Reds and Blues, and the Blues and Reds, stepped off the ship. Carolina and Wash were last in line.

"Right this way, you two," said Temple. "Wait 'til you get a load of our base. You're gonna love it."

Wash took a few tentative steps down the gangplank, when a voice called out from behind him.

"You talk in your sleep."

Wash stopped in his tracks, and turned around to see Carolina standing behind him.

"Excuse me?"

"I said you talk in your sleep."

"Really? I-I didn't know that," Wash replied, suddenly flustered. "What'd I say?"

Carolina shrugged. "Couldn't make it out. Ask Tucker. You were practically drooling on his shoulder the whole flight."

-End


End file.
